A Man's Best Friend
by OtherLuces
Summary: A story about an unlikely friendship between two so-called "street dogs". A little something for me to write when I need a break from the smut.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been walking some dogs before class at the MSPCA this summer, and while walking them, this came to mind. Ambrose taking in a dog and their relationship. I don't know how much interest there will be in this, since I tend to write smut and this of course will be smut free. The chapters will be shorter than I usually write. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it. Thank you!**

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The first time I met you, it was raining. I almost didn't notice you as I left the Arena. I seriously thought you were a discarded pile of rags. I was about to walk by and catch a cab back to my place, but then I saw that pile of rags move. I paused and pulled out a cigarette. We stared at each other while I lit up and took the first drag. You were pretty pathetic looking back then, you know that? I admit that I felt pity for you, but I kept on walking that day. Just another stray. None of my business.

That night I couldn't sleep. That wasn't so uncommon, but that time it was because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't get the image of you out of my head. You don't know this, but after two hours of tossing and turning, I dragged my ass out of bed, threw on some pants and a dirty tee and went all the way back to where I had seen you. You weren't there. Maybe you finally wandered home. Maybe you got hit by a car. Maybe someone came to put you out of your misery. I had no fucking clue. All I knew was that you were gone and there was nothing more that I could do.

It was about two weeks later, I think...I don't have a great memory or sense of time, you know that...when I was shocked to see you again. In the same exact place. It was like it was fucking _Groundhog's Day_ or something. I stood there longer this time, staring at you. Were you dead? You weren't moving and fuck knows that you looked and smelled like you could be. I decided to crouch down to check, just for my own sake.

Thank god you had a pulse. I'm not really sure what I would've done if you had been dead. Carry you into an alley? Toss you in the dumpster? I don't even want to think about it. Knowing how I was back then, it probably would've been something fucking stupid. I stood up and sighed. I could feel your ribs through those mats of fur when I touched you. I groaned loudly and threw my hands up. The least I could do was buy you some meat or something, right? I couldn't just go home this time. Not when I was certain that I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out here.

"Stay here, dude, okay? I'm gonna go get you something to eat."

It was kinda late since it was after a show, but I found a cheesesteak place that was still open. I shouldn't have stopped to eat one for myself. I should've just ordered two and eaten it next to you, but how was I supposed to know then? I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but you know what? I don't really think of this as one because it brought us together for good.

I hadn't been gone for, what, fifteen minutes? But apparently that was enough time for some fucking teenage asshole pieces of shit to find you. You should've seen my face the moment it dawned on me that they were hurting you. I dropped that cheesesteak and sprinted the block or so to where you were and dove at them. It's kinda funny. If Roman had been able to see what I had looked like, he probably would say "Not a bad spear, man".

I was pumped so full of anger and adrenaline that I don't remember too much about exactly what I did. All I can remember is the feeling of their bones cracking under my fist and the warm wetness of their blood staining my shirt. Don't worry, I didn't kill them. That would make me no better than them because if I had taken longer, that's exactly what they would've done to you. Once they couldn't get back up, I called 911. They really didn't deserve it, but I had a feeling you wouldn't forgive me if I didn't try to make sure they got to a hospital.

I picked you up and realized I didn't have a lot of time to figure out what to do. I could feel the breaks in your leg and the blood in your matted fur. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There was a 24-hour emergency vet a couple miles away. I called a cab and when it arrived, the driver shook his head. Said you'd get blood all over his cab. I tried to explain the situation as calmly as I could, but he sped off. Stupid motherfucker. I groaned loudly and realized what I'd have to do. So I started running.


	2. Chapter 2

I've always been a pretty fast runner. That's what I had to do when drug-dealing thugs would try to harass me coming home from school. I ran. So I got good at it. I never did practice running holding a large object in front of me, though. You were awfully awkward to carry, but I didn't want to risk trying to figure out a way to carry you on my back, given the state you were in. It took me a little longer than it would have without the extra weight, but we finally made it to the emergency vet about twenty minutes later.

It's a good thing we got there when we did because you looked even worse than you did when I picked you up. I ran up to the front desk, my eyes wide and honestly, full of fear.

"You need to take this dog in right fucking now!" I yelled.

"Sir, please calm down..."

"No! Just please take him in right now and I'll deal with all the bullshit later. Please!"

The woman at the front desk took a moment to look down at you and her eyes looked just like mine. She nodded and picked up the phone, paging to get some staff out with a transportation table. About a minute later, three people emerged from the back and took you from my arms. I gave them a dirty look because they weren't being very careful with you, but I suppose time was important and you were already pretty fucking beat up.

Once you disappeared through that gray door, I stared at it for a moment. I'm not gonna lie, I felt very lonely all of the sudden. Why should I have? I had no real connection to you. Not at that point, really. It's kind of funny looking back, but it took me longer than it should have to realize why I felt for you so much.

I finally sighed and went back over to the front desk. "Okay, what do I need to do?"

"Please fill out these forms for us, sir. We just need your contact information and the animal's information."

I took the clipboard from her hand and wandered over to take a seat, eyeing over the form as I did. I could put my name and address and shit, but I knew nothing about you. Name? Age? Breed? How the fuck did I know? I tapped the pen against my temple trying to think of what to put down. I had to fill in something, right?

I eventually got stood up and handed the form back to the receptionist, scratching my head.

"Name...Stray? Age, question mark? Breed...Dog? Sir, if you were bringing in a stray that you hit with your car, you could've just told me that you didn't know it's information."

"Woah woah, I didn't hit it with my car! It wasn't hit by a car at all. I was bringing him a sandwich when I found these fucking assholes kicking him!"

Despite the fact that I was being loud and obscene, I noticed her face change from a tight frown to a small smile once she realized that I had protected you. "So what happened to the suspects?"

"Uh...I can't tell you, but I don't think they'll do anything like that again," I mumbled.

"I see..." She eyed me up and down for a moment, focusing a lot of her attention on the dried blood on my hands, but eventually she nodded her head and entered the info into the computer system.

I looked at my hands and my shirt. Fuck, I looked awfully creepy and suspicious covered in blood.

"Uh, where's your bathroom?" She pointed down a hallway and I thanked her. "If you need me for anything, that's where I'll be...uh, trying clean off this blood and shit."

I stared at myself in the mirror. Even my face was smeared with some blood. Heh. Like that wasn't something I was used to. I could cut and beat up other men for a living and get excited about it, but this was a whole other thing. I started to feel sick. It was like the adrenaline was starting to wear off. The smell of your blood mixed with theirs filled the small room and it was only then that I noticed it. I had to get it off of me as best I could.

It took a few minutes and a lot of scrubbing, but I was finally able to get my hands clean. Sure there was some dried blood under my fingernails, but it was what it was. I peeled off my shirt and threw it in the sink. While it was soaking in the water, I worked on washing my chest and arms. There was a little bit of blood stained on my jeans, but I wasn't about to take off my pants there. I may be a bit of a lecherous pervert, but I'm not _that_ bad, you know that. The water began to turn red as I sloshed it around and that's when I realized how dumb I can be. Without a back-up shirt, I'd have to wear a wet t-shirt all night in an air conditioned building.

A moment later, right as I was about to squeeze whatever water I could out of the shirt, I was startled by a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, sir?" It was the women from the front desk.

"Yeah, come on in." She opened the door and shut it again once she saw me. "What was that about?" I asked.

"I didn't know you'd be shirtless, sir! I brought you a scrub top because I thought you might want to change your shirt."

"Shit, that'd be great!" I swung open the door and saw her close her eyes tightly and thrust the shirt toward my chest. I found her sudden bashful demeanor really cute. "Thanks. I thought I was going to have to wear a wet shirt all night," I said once I had pulled the fabric over my head. That made her cheeks turn bright pink. I kinda wanted to explore whatever she was thinking in her head at that moment, but now wasn't the time. I rinsed out the sink and washed my hands once more before heading back into the waiting room.

Waiting was the shits. There was a TV on the wall and I ended up watching that for a while. I suppose I could've tried sleeping, but I was far too wound up. Eventually after maybe an hour or so, a woman in a white coat came out of the door you had gone in. She approached me with an unreadable look on her face.

"Hi, are you the owner of the dog who was just brought in?" she asked.

I stood up and face her, shaking my head. "Nah, but I brought him in. Found him hurt and knew that I had to make sure that he'd be okay."

"I see. Well, sir, I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news."

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**Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/followed this little story. I wasn't sure if there'd be any interest at all for a non-romantic wrestling story, so it makes me happy to know that some people are enjoying it. Thank you again.**


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